


About That Unfulfilled Longing...

by therealfroggy



Category: House M.D.
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-21
Updated: 2012-12-21
Packaged: 2017-11-21 21:47:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/602412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therealfroggy/pseuds/therealfroggy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wilson doesn't mean to be so clumsy, it's just that he's wanted this for <em>so long</em>...</p>
            </blockquote>





	About That Unfulfilled Longing...

The Great Plan was set in motion. The booze was served, Wilson was on the couch, and House's favourite jazz was playing. House grinned. The Great Plan would almost certainly work.

They were getting drunk. Well, House was planning to get Wilson drunk and then pretend to be equally drunk, so that no matter what he did, he could blame it on the booze.

Why is it always this?” Wilson pondered, taking another sip of House's finest whiskey. “Us, here, on your couch... drinking. Why don't we do anything else?”

“Because this is so much fun I can hardly stand it,” House said, then topped off Wilson's glass when the younger man wasn't looking. “You're way behind, by the way; you drink like a twenty year-old girl.”

Wilson vindictively downed the rest of his glass, and House smiled to himself. This was even easier than he had imagined.

“You know, I really do consider you a friend, Wilson, even though you can't hold your drink and you blow-dry your hair,” House said, pretending to take another drink. “So much, in fact, that I call you Jimmy.”

“Well, that's good, House, seeing as I'm the only friend you've actually got,” Wilson said with a grin. He was beginning to feel a little tipsy.

“Well, anyway, cheers,” House said cheerfully. But Wilson put his glass down rather than drinking again.

“You're trying to get me drunk,” he said, suspicion creeping into his voice.

“Why would I do that?” House said with a snort, and pretended to take another sip.

“You tell me,” Wilson replied, turning to face House fully. “House, you're trying to get me wasted. That should have me worried. What are you doing?”

Damn. Wilson was on to him. House took a sip of whiskey for courage. The Great Plan would not be deterred.

Carefully placing his glass on the coffee table, House cleared his throat and said, “Hold still.” Then he grabbed Wilson's shirt and leaned in.

“Whoa, House! What are you doing?” Wilson exclaimed, putting his hands up against House's shoulders.

House almost leaned into the warmth of Wilson's hands. “I'm trying to kiss you. I told you to hold still.”

Wilson gaped. “Kiss me? Why? I mean, sure, but... why?”

“Because I hate you and never want to see you again,” House snarked, then swathed Wilson's hands away. “Now hold still.”

He didn't leave any time for Wilson to start protesting again, but swiftly closed the space between them and pressed his lips to Wilson's. He tasted like whiskey, and House licked into his mouth.

Wilson was shocked into immobility by the sudden attack, but quickly recovered and threw his arms around House's neck, kissing the older doctor back with fervour.

House, in turn, was pleasantly surprised by Wilson's enthusiastic response. He closed his eyes and pressed against Wilson.

“House!” Wilson gasped, breaking the kiss. “Please tell me this isn't one of your sick jokes!”

“It's not,” House said, “it's one of my sick serious moments.”

Wilson was almost shaking. “I'm serious, House. If you kiss me again, I have to know you're being serious. That you mean it. I don't want you to play with me.”

“Funny, I thought that was exactly what you wanted, if I read your personal journal correctly,” House said, grinning at his friend.

Wilson paled. “You read my journal?”

“Very entertaining, and very informative,” House said with an evil grin. “How long, exactly, have you been in love with your sarcastic, grumpy friend?”

Wilson covered his face with shaking hands. “My God. How could you... do you really have to mock me over this?” he asked, voice unsteady. “And to answer your question, I don't know. Probably for years. There, have at it, ridicule me for all it's worth.”

House moved in close to murmur in Wilson's ear, “Don't worry, I won't. How would that ever get me laid?”

Wilson tensed, then slowly straightened up and looked at House. “You what?”

“I was trying to get you drunk so I could get into your shorts,” House purred, and leaned back in to nip gently at Wilson's earlobe. Wilson sat very still.

“So do you want to do something about all that _unfulfilled longing_? Or should I just shut up and throw you out of my apartment, you little stalker?”

Wilson couldn't even speak. He made a rather undignified sound, rather like a fish being squeezed. His eyes were nearly bulging out of his head.

“Oh, for chrissake,” House muttered, then kissed Wilson again. Tongue deep in his mouth, this time. Wilson made a small sound of relief and kissed him back, and House smiled into the kiss.

“House, I didn't... Are you sure?” Wilson finally managed, hands clutching desperately at House's shoulders.

“Yes,” House answered simply. He kissed the younger man briefly. “Want to go to bed?”

“Fuck yes!” Wilson breathed, and made to kiss House yet again.

“Bedroom first,” House said.

Wilson shot off the couch, looking eagerly at House, and headed for the bedroom double time. He'd only seen it once, when House had first bought the place (whenever he'd spent the night, he'd slept on the couch), but he knew where it was.

“Hold up, you're running from a cripple, here,” House called, grabbing his cane before limping after Wilson. He'd barely made it into the bedroom himself before Wilson accosted him, pressing their lips together with force and yanking impatiently on House's shirt collar.

“Whoa, down, boy!” House said, barely pulling away before Wilson's teeth took his bottom lip captive. “Mph! You in a hurry?”

“I've been wanting this for years,” Wilson confessed before sliding his tongue into the other man's mouth. He sighed against House's lips, closing his eyes.

House was surprised, not to mention a little flattered. And also very, very aroused by the way Wilson was pressing up against him, sucking on his tongue, making little moans right at the back of his throat.

“Wilson,” House began, pulling away reluctantly. “On the bed. Leg, you know?”

Wilson began tearing at his own shirt, pulling it off and throwing it to the floor. He attacked House in the same fashion, and at least three buttons flew across the room. Wilson was _blushing_ by the time he got to House's belt.

“Sit down and I'll help you with these,” Wilson suggested, tugging a little on House's jeans. He sounded so eager it was almost embarrassing.

House did as Wilson said anyway. His leg and cane kind of got in the way of undressing.

No sooner had he sat down than Wilson yanked on his jeans, almost pulling him off the bed. House yelped, something he was sure he hadn't done since med school. Wilson pulled his jeans off, licked his lips, and shed his own trousers quickly.

“Socks,” House insisted when Wilson was about to join him on the bed. “You are not having sex with me while either of us is wearing socks.”

Wilson grinned sheepishly, removed both pairs of socks, then joined his friend on the bed.

Wilson pounced, kissing House hotly. With lots of tongue and lots of hands. He leaned into House, pressing their chests together.

“What do you want?” House said, almost uncertain. Wilson was like a fifteen year-old with his first girlfriend.

“Anything,” Wilson gasped. He tried to recapture House's mouth, missed it and kissed his jaw instead. “Anything; whatever you want.”

House was surprised, but still a little annoyed at Wilson's easy trust.

“You sure you mean that? Last chance. What do you want?” he repeated, trying to look into Wilson's eyes.

Wilson's face was red; blushing and eager. His eyes glowed up at House.

“Will you... Would you let me fuck you?” he blurted, lips parted and red.

House swallowed, his throat constricting. Fuck him? Would he let Wilson fuck him?

“House,” Wilson panted, “I won't ask you again, I won't insist. I just... needed to ask. If you would...”

He trailed off, looking down at the messy sheets. Hair ruffled. Lips swollen and glistening with their mixed saliva. Chest heaving with his panting.

House wanted to groan. Wilson looked so completely doable.

“Yes,” he admitted, looking closely at his friend. “I'd let you fuck me.”

Wilson's expression was priceless. House saw surprise, desire and nervousness fly over Wilson's face. He leaned in to kiss the older man, more insistent than ever.

“Actually, I was planning to fuck you tonight,” House said, breaking the kiss. “But I guess since I got you drunk and all, it's only fair.”

He didn't mention the fact that Wilson was the only man in the world that he'd allow to fuck him.

House reached into his bedside drawer, pulling out a bottle of lube and a condom. He'd planned this, after all; at least, he'd planned to be naked in bed with Wilson.

“You know what to do?” House asked. His voice was gravelly.

Wilson jumped him again, launching himself at House. Their lips crashed together, and Wilson _whimpered_ into House's mouth. They slid down, House on his back underneath the oncologist, until they were lying entangled across the bed.

“God, House, you wouldn't believe... oh, fuck!” Wilson murmured.

House arched an eyebrow. “Didn't know you knew any dirty words, Jimmy. Got any other juicy ones?”

“Just the one,” Wilson smiled, snatching the lube and condom from House's hand. “Is it okay if I...”

Wilson didn't slide his hand up House's thigh slowly, giving the older man the chance to protest or stop him. He didn't lean in to kiss House to make him relax.

He leaned down, crawled backwards, grabbed House's shorts and yanked them down, barely enough to release House's erection. Barely pausing to look at it, he slid it deep into his mouth, all niceties aside.

“Jimmy!” House gasped, placing a hand in Wilson's hair, trying to slow him down. “Go easy! Don't bite it off, would you?”

Wilson released him reluctantly, teeth scraping over the head making House wince.

“Sorry. Sorry, sorry,” Wilson muttered, looking with uncurbed desire at his friend.

House felt mildly incredulous. Wilson was all over him, like a hyperactive puppy, kissing and biting and touching anything within reach. And suddenly House felt a slick finger push against his entrance, and he flinched.

“House,” Wilson said, voice raw with need. “Please?”

House nodded, a little unsure about this new, desperate Wilson.

Wilson pressed the finger fully inside House. The older man exhaled heavily. Wilson pushed the finger in and out a few times, then added another. He enthusiastically finger-fucked House, kissing him hard.

“Don't,” House gasped, hissing in pain when Wilson's fingers spread wide inside him.

“Sorry,” Wilson said hastily. He removed his fingers, squirted more lube into his hand, and put the condom on with one hand. It took a lot of fumbling and effort on Wilson's part, but it got done.

Lube, spread legs, Wilson between them and _oh_. House closed his eyes tightly, trying to relax and accept the intrusion. Wilson didn't have the mind to go slow; he pressed hard into House and groaned in relief when he felt their hips slide together.

“Easy,” House ground out. “Go slow.”

Wilson drew a deep breath, nodded, and drew back a little – only to push slowly forward again.

“House,” Wilson panted. “Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, House, I -”

“Don't nag, Jimmy,” House said, moving a little to get more comfortable. “Save your breath for the fun.”

Wilson leaned in, and House rolled his eyes before he let the younger man kiss him. Wilson's lips were definitely worth a taste, but House had a cock up his ass and a clumsy oncologist on top of him. It didn't make for very relaxed kissing.

Wilson, lips still locked on House's, began thrusting into the older man at a steady, fast pace. He groaned into House's mouth.

“Mmph... air, remember?” House snapped, pulling away from Wilson's greedy lips. “Kinda need it!”

Wilson didn't react to his words. He merely latched on to House's throat, hunger burning in his eyes, and began making a hickie on a spot just below House's chin. His hips rocked faster into House, small sounds of pleasure streaming from his throat.

“House,” Wilson whimpered, “Greg!”

House grunted in response. Although he'd wanted this, it was rather uncomfortable – Wilson was too quick; too rough.

House liked it rough. But when Wilson bit down too hard on his shoulder, and wrenched his cock into House almost painfully hard, House didn't exactly feel great.

“Greg! Oh, fuck, Greg, God yes!”

Wilson screamed. He yelled the words, screamed House's name, right into House's ear. House didn't quite know what had just happened until Wilson, panting and shuddering, sank down on him, kissing him frantically.

“Oh, fuck, House, I'm sorry,” Wilson muttered into the skin of House's neck just below the purplish spot.

“I'll say; you blew your stacks before I even got started!” House snarked, looking up at the younger man with an amused grin. “I always suspected you were a jumper.”

“Seriously, I'm so sorry,” Wilson said, pulling out before moving up to look House full in the eyes. “Let me make it up to you.”

“No, don't,” House quickly countered. “I want to keep all my private bits intact, thank you.”

Wilson grinned, looking perfectly embarrassed and sated. “I'm... very sorry. But it's just that I've been waiting for this for years now! I couldn't help myself!”

“Well, next time it's my turn to fuck you,” House said, looking with a grin at Wilson. “Or I'll tell everyone at the hospital – including Cuddy – that you can't even last for five minutes, much less get your friends off.”

“Really?” Wilson asked, eyebrows climbing towards his unnecessarily sweaty hairline. “You'd... you want that?”

“Well, it's only polite to reciprocate,” House replied casually. “Now give me a hand; I'm horny and my leg is acting up.”

Wilson stared at his friend. “You didn't... oh. Fuck, oh, of course you didn't. Um, yes. Sorry.”

He looked incredibly embarrassed, and House smirked. He really had one over on him. “Well?” he said impatiently.

Wilson, not as eager and careless after his climax, quickly fisted House's erection and began stroking. He watched House's face carefully, wanting to satisfy the older man after his own abysmal performance.

House's breathing hitched. Getting a handjob was always so much better than jerking off. Wilson, for some reason, was exceptionally skilled.

“Little harder,” House grunted, shifting his hips so he could thrust into Wilson's hand. “Yeah. Like that.”

Wilson still couldn't resist; he just had to kiss House. Really kiss him, tongue deep in the older man's mouth as House bucked into his fist. Their teeth bumped. Leaning on one elbow over his friend, Wilson kissed the man he'd been wanting for so long, stroking him to completion.

Wilson sighed as House came in his hand, growling deeply. He tried looking into House's eyes, but the older man was lying back, eyes closed, face relaxed.

Wilson chewed his lip, desperately wanting to ask House a question but more than a little apprehensive about the answer.

“House?”

“Mm.”

“House, look me in the eyes and answer a question for me,” Wilson begged.

House lazily opened his eyes, looking with a complete lack of interest at the younger man. “What?”

“How bad was it?” Wilson blurted, positive that he was blushing. He had the sudden urge to crawl beneath the blanket to conceal his nakedness.

House looked at him, all blue ice and unreadable expression.

“I mean, obviously it was completely horrible, but... just how bad was I?” Wilson asked, smiling timidly. He realized how juvenile he sounded, but he had to ask.

House almost smiled; not quite, but almost. “It was a complete joke, halfway to awful, and I loved it. Want to do it again tomorrow?”


End file.
